


Day 38

by AMidnightDreary



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, BAMF Loki (Marvel), BAMF Tony Stark, Everyone Needs A Hug, Gallows Humor, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Martial Arts, Mild Smut, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2020-01-14 11:31:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18475363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AMidnightDreary/pseuds/AMidnightDreary
Summary: The day he meets Loki turns out to be the luckiest day of Tony's life. You know, if there weren't the zombies.Basically just an angsty road trip featuring two smart-asses, the end of the world, and a bit of falling in love.





	1. Day 1 - Day 38 Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this a year ago, and before I get lost in editing and never get to post it, here it is: The angsty zombie apocalypse AU nobody asked for.
> 
> I'll try to update every monday, but I'm afraid of making promises at this point. xD
> 
> I hope you like it!^.^

**Day 1**

 

Tony sleeps through the apocalypse.

No, really, he just sleeps through it. That shouldn't be possible, you say – but well, you'd be surprised by how many things are made possible by hangovers. None of them are particularly good things, of course. It certainly isn't a good thing in this case.

Anyway – Tony has the hangover of hangovers, and that means that his mood is on the lowest point possible. He hides in bed and cures himself, barely even waking up when JARVIS tries to get his attention. He just mutes him, and JARVIS, being the well-behaved AI he is, stays silent. Because Tony's hungover, and he doesn't want to talk to anyone right now.

Obie calls once.

Rhodey calls four times and sends twelve texts.

Pepper calls nine times and sends eighteen texts.

Tony ignores them all.

 

**Day 2**

 

Tony realizes that the world has ended. He tries to call Obie back, tries to call Rhodey back, tries to call Pepper back. None of them answers.

Rhodey left a voicemail.

“ _Fuck, Tony, this isn't the right time to ignore your phone! Are you still drunk or already hungover? I hope you're okay. Stay out of LA, everything there is a fucking mess. Troops are trying to pull up camps, but I don't think they've got things under control. Be safe, Tones, okay? And call back, dammit.”_

Pepper left a voicemail.

“ _Tony! Tony, I – answer your goddamn phone, I need to know if you're – where are you? Malibu? If you are, then stay there, okay? I'm in New York, I'm safe, please try to -”_

Nothing, after that.

 

**Day 4**

 

Rhodey was right. LA is a fucking mess.

He drove into the city to find Obie. He didn't stop to help anyone, even though there were many people who could have used his help. But those _things_ were distracting him, and, if he's honest, he might have been too shocked to leave the safety of his car at first. They are everywhere, and they're... well. They're dead. Dead people that walk around and groan and want to have a bite of anything that lives.

Tony almost laughed, the first time he saw one from up close. Because, really, this whole thing is ridiculous. Zombies don't exist, _everyone_ knows that – but there he was, getting out of his car only to be attacked by one of them, and Tony almost laughed. But then that thing tried to eat him, literally eat him, and a few others tried to eat him on his long, long way up the stairs, too, and now Tony isn't laughing anymore.

He's leaning against the wall in one of the most expensive penthouses in the city, gasping and panting and fucking wheezing, one hand clutched over his mouth in a weak attempt to muffle his sounds. He's crying, freaking crying, but he can't _stop_ crying, because pure horror is creeping through his veins – because now, only now, he realizes that this is real.

The blood on his clothes and skin is real.

The baseball bat in his hands is real.

Obadiah Stane's corpse is real.

And that he was still walking around a few minutes ago, even though very clearly dead? That Tony killed him - it? - with the bat signed by every single member of Obie's favorite baseball team?

That's real, too.

 

**Day 5**

 

Tony's hungover again.

 

**Day 9**

 

LA is slowly bleeding out.

The last days, it's been full of rioting people. They plundered the whole city, destroyed half of it in the process. The military is still busy trying to evacuate what's left of them, but they're helplessly overwhelmed with the task. Their camps were too full too quickly, and soon they didn't let anyone in anymore.

Tony thinks that those camps are time bombs. He helped a woman and her kids get into one, and one of the boys had been bitten. Tony saw that only the second before they disappeared through the gates, and he still wonders why he'd let that happen. He also wonders how many more people are infected, and how long it takes until they die and stand up again.

Time bombs.

Now, people are doing whatever they can to leave the city. The Dead are everywhere by now. Tony tries to help wherever he can, because he doesn't know what else to do. He gave away all his cars except one, and even a few weapons. He also filled canisters with water and handed them out to the people waiting and dying outside of the camps. It's a wonder he isn't dead yet, or bitten himself.

He isn't a soldier. Not like Rhodey; he'd be much better at this. But Tony knows weapons, and he knows how to use them. He also figured out that you have to hit the head to make sure a dead person stays dead.

He killed twenty three people in the last five days.

They were all already dead, but Tony isn't sure if that matters.

 

**Day 12**

 

Tony's back at the mansion. He still hasn't opened it for refugees, even though he knows he should. But well, there aren't many refugees left, anyway. Most people are either dead or have left the city, probably for good.

He doesn't think that this situation will be under control any time soon. He doesn't know if a damage like this can be healed.

Twelve days ago, there were four million people living in Los Angeles. Three hundred million in the United States. Almost seven billion in the world.

Tony can't say how many are left.

 

**Day 14**

 

He doesn't know anymore how many times he's tried to reach Pepper or Rhodey.

 

**Day 18**

 

Tony leaves Malibu in his favourite sports car. He has two guns and a whole bag full of munition. A few knives. A backpack with food and water. One canister with fuel. He's built himself a power bank that runs on solar energy, and he has his phone and some other tech he thought could be useful. JARVIS is with him, but he needed to leave his other bots behind.

He'd like to blast some AC/DC while driving, but noise seems to attract the Dead. He can't make it to his jet. Dead people, everywhere, and so he keeps driving.

Before he left, maybe for good, he used color spray to write something on the gate.

SAFE

283640

 

**Day 21**

 

Tony sits in the car, eyes fixed on the street in front of him, a bottle of water in his hands. He slowly takes a few sips. Then he closes the bottle again and sets it on the passenger seat. Next to it, a package of crackers is sitting, and Tony takes one and starts to nibble at it.

“Okay”, he says, “let's say we just drive through them. Chances we survive that?”

“ _72 percent_ ”, JARVIS answers after a moment. “ _Roughly. I can't say for sure how many there are._ ”

“72 isn't that bad”, Tony muses.

“ _Maybe they'll just pass us by._ ”

“They move about as fast as turtles, J. We don't have time for that.”

“ _Time seems much less important than keeping you alive, Sir._ ”

“JARVIS.”

If he weren't so well behaved, the AI would probably sigh. “ _We could turn around and use another road._ ”

Tony shakes his head, eyeing the fuel gauge. “We're nearly out of fuel. I'd like to get as far as possible with what's left.”

“ _Running out of fuel when surrounded by biters isn't something I would recommend._ ”

Tony smirks at the dry tone. “We just have to make it through that flock. Can't be more than a hundred.”

“ _Well, we should have enough fuel left for that._ ”

 _We,_ Tony thinks. _Always we._

JARVIS knows that he's an AI, of course. That he's not more than a computer code, even though a very neat one. But he also knows that Tony is alone and – fuck, he probably also knows that Tony's scared as hell, so yes, _we._ It makes Tony feel infinitely better.

“You know what?” Tony puts the rest of the cracker into his mouth and brushes the crumbles off his shirt. “Let's do it.”

“ _I'm sure it will be a blast._ ”

“That's the spirit”, Tony says, grinning, and starts the car again.

A few biters, as They have started to call the Dead, turn towards the sound immediately. Tony ignores them and drives slowly forward, approaching the mass of living corpses that block the street. He grips the wheel tighter when the first crashes against the front window, but keeps his foot steadily on the gas.

“Ew”, he mutters, “now there's entails on my car. Great. Fucking great.”

“ _Just be glad that this isn't a cabriolet, Sir_.”

Tony laughs.

 

**Day 24**

 

“You can have the car”, Tony says, because it's the only thing he can think of.

The soldiers stare at him. The man is quite a bit taller than Tony and the woman has a few inches on him, too, and since they are both armed, Tony's pretty sure he can't take it up with the both of them. They headed him off about twenty minutes ago, and since then they've been discussing if Tony has to come with them or not. He's voting for no, of course, but his new friends have a slightly different view on the matter. They don't care who he is, they don't care what he needs to do; the only thing they care about is their order. And their order is to drag every (living) human they find into one of the not yet full camps that haven't stopped being time bombs.

Tony can't go with them.

“The car”, the man repeats. He's younger than Tony and been eyeing said car for a while now. Idiot.

“Yeah!” Tony grins and nods. “It can be yours. You gonna get all the girls with this baby, believe me.” He winks at the woman, but she's just looking at him as if he's lost his mind.

“I don't know if you realized, but the world ended three weeks ago”, she informs him.

“And I think the apocalypse is much more fun when you've got a nice car.” He makes sure his grin stays in place and holds up the car keys, raising his brows at the man.

“Okay”, the guy says.

The woman sighs, but she lets her gun sink and takes a few steps back. She looks goddamn annoyed, which Tony can understand, really; he's goddamn annoyed, too. The other soldier approaches him and reaches out to take the key, but Tony quickly withdraws his hand.

“Wait a sec there, Forest”, he says, “I think we should make sure you understand your end of the bargain.”

“We don't have time for this”, the woman chimes in.

“Me neither”, Tony says. “So, you get the car, I take off, and we all pretend you've never seen me. Oh, and I take my bags, first. No confiscating my stuff here. Deal?”

The man shrugs. “Deal.”

“Cool.” Tony pulls his bags out of the car and then tosses him the keys. “Have fun.”

And so he loses the car. Which is a pity, really. He just found a gas station a few hours ago. The tank is almost full.

 

**Day 26**

 

He's much slower by foot. Who'd have guessed?

 

**Day 31**

 

Tony's feet hurt. His back hurts. His head hurts. His everything hurts. He isn't used to walking this much, or this long at a stretch. He's also hungry; he's rationing his provisions now. He has enough, technically, since he's found both food and water on his way, but he still feels like he shouldn't waste it.

JARVIS doesn't have any signal any more. Can't even tell Tony where they are.

Tony's glad he brought a map.

 

**Day 38 – Part 1**

 

The knife is only a bit longer than his hand, but it's sharp and obviously deadly. The handle is black, and now that he's cleaned it from the blood on the blade, you could almost call it pretty. Tony found it in the head of a Biter, attracted by the way the far too bright sun made it glisten. Now, he's resting, sitting on the loading area of a pickup on an abandoned parking lot. There are a few factory buildings and warehouses around, but he doesn't hear any moaning or slurping of biters, which means he's probably safe. Well, as safe as he can be when there are zombies walking around.

He stuffs the knife into his backpack and takes a few sips of water. He watches the highway that's far enough away that no one is going to see him. He doesn't really want to repeat his experience with those soldiers; he doesn't have anything to bribe people with anymore.

He has seen two caravans of cars and/or tanks drive past in the half-hour he's been sitting here. In the last days, he's always made sure to walk in the other direction when he saw anyone. He doesn't even know why.

He is just wondering if he should stay here for the night or not when a different sound shreds the air – a sound that's very clearly a curse, even though Tony doesn't recognize the language. It's followed by another shout very quickly; an angry tirade of what sounds like cusses and threats.

Tony is on his feet and packing his things the second he realizes that he's not the only living being here. But then, when he's about to walk into the opposite direction like he always does, the voice – it seems to be a man – screams something again, and Tony finds that he simply cannot leave.

He curses himself, now, and throws his bag on the truck bed again, because he's much faster without it. He keeps the backpack, though; no way he's leaving that behind. And then he sets off into the direction of the voice quickly, but quietly. He finishes two biters on the way to the closest warehouse, and when he sneaks around a corner he almost has a heart attack and tumbles backwards.

Far too many dead people, right there. When the fuck did that happen?

Tony stays where he is for a moment, his mind reeling, before he moves again. He's spotted a ladder on the side of the building, and even though getting stuck on the ceiling isn't exactly a peachy prospect, it's the only way to see if that apparent foreigner can be helped or not. And so Tony climbs up and eventually stands on the ceiling, which is thankfully clear from biters.

Only now he realizes that the cursing has stopped.

He moves across the ceiling into the direction where he believes the owner of the voice to be, and eventually peaks over the edge. His eyes widen when he sees a honest to god _mass_ of biters, all gathered around a container of some sort and pressing against it while reaching out for -

“Hi”, Tony calls, and the man who is standing on the container looks up to him. “You speak English?”

The man is breathing heavily and he looks half insane, with his clothes and face dirty and muddy and his shoulder-long hair a disarrayed mess. But his gaze is focused and unwavering, his voice firm and confident when he answers, “Yes, of course.”

“Cool”, Tony says. “Are those your friends?”

The man looks at the biters surrounding him and briefly lifts one shoulder. “Let's say fleeting acquaintances. I don't think we get along that well.”

“No, doesn't look like it. Need some help?”

Container-man lets out a breath that's audible even where Tony stands. “That would be appreciated.”

“I'll be right back”, Tony says and takes a few steps away from the edge of the ceiling.

“Take your time”, he hears the man say, and it actually makes Tony chuckle.

He pulls a long rope out of his backpack, mentally clapping himself on the shoulder for taking it with him. He looks around and eventually finds some sort of pipe he can tie the rope to, which he quickly does. Then, he tosses it over the edge and looks down at the man again. He returns Tony's gaze from where he stands pressed against the wall, as far away from the grabbing hands and groaning mouths as possible.

“Your bag?”, Tony offers, holding out his hands.

The man hesitates, but after a moment he takes off his backpack and throws it to Tony, who catches it easily. It's light enough that the stranger could very well climb with it on his back. Tony sets it aside, and when he looks over the edge again the man's half way up already. He doesn't need long for the rest, and soon he hauls himself up onto the roof and laboriously gets first on his knees, then on his feet. He's swaying a little, and he looks thin and tired and a little bit annoyed, but overall fine. He's also ridiculously tall, at least out of Tony's perspective.

“Hi”, Tony says again.

“Hi”, the man echoes, swinging his backpack over his shoulder again. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” Tony unties the rope and stores it into his own bag again. “There's a ladder on the other side, let's go.”

The stranger walks the same way as Tony does. Wary, quiet and quick. When they arrive at the top end of the ladder and look down, they both freeze.

“This is unfortunate”, the man says.

“Yup”, Tony agrees, eyes gliding over the hoard of biters that are now walking around between the cars. “They weren't there earlier. Where the fuck did they come from?”

“Oh, that might be my fault. I broke into this building to look for supplies. These were all stuck in there, I think.”

“Please tell me that there wasn't some sort of warning smeared over the doors and you simply ignored it.”

“No”, the man says. “There wasn't anything. I'm hungry, not stupid.”

“People do stupid things when they're hungry”, Tony muses, and the stranger huffs softly. “What do think, should we try to get into the building?”

“They nearly ran me down when the doors were open”, the man says pensively. After a moment, he slowly shakes his head. “I don't know how many of them are in there. I wouldn't risk it.”

“Okay, then. Do you have anything to, you know -”

“Yes.” The stranger smirks a little. “I'll have your back if you have mine.”

Tony mirrors the smirk. “Deal.” He points at the car in which he rested earlier. “You see that pickup over there?”

Clear, green eyes slide over the mass of cars on the parking lot. “The red one?”

“Yeah. I've got stuff in there, and the tank is almost full. When we get to it without dying, everything's peachy.”

“Alright.” The man rakes his fingers through his hair, brushing it out of his face. “I'll go first.”

“You sure?”

“Yes”, the man says and, without further ado, begins to climb down the ladder.

“Hey”, Tony calls before the black-haired head disappears. The man stops to look at him. “I'm Tony.”

He blinks. “Loki”, he says then, reaching over the edge to offer Tony his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Tony plasters on one of his trademark grins and shakes Loki's hand. “The pleasure's all mine.”

Loki rolls his eyes, but he's smirking again. Tony takes out his gun and cocks it, aiming at the biters closest to his new friend. Loki lands easily on his feet and then motions for Tony to come down, but only after finishing off two of the Dead without showing the slightest sign of hesitation.

Tony notes that Loki is using knives. Small, black-handled daggers that you could almost call pretty if it wasn't for the blood stained blades.

A few seconds later, Tony's back on the ground, too. They lock eyes for a moment and Loki bares his teeth – some weird caricature of a smile that almost makes Tony chuckle; but then there are biters coming at them and they both have no time for smiling or chuckling anymore.

Loki continues using his daggers, while Tony switches between his own knife and the gun, which he only uses when he really needs to. They do have their backs, or at least try to, because after a bit of time some biters get between them, and Tony loses sight of Loki. He hears him curse now and then, though, and still wonders at the language.

He bets on something north European. Swedish, maybe?

Tony gets to the car first, without bigger problems. Having jumped on the truck bed, he looks out for Loki and quickly spots him standing on the roof of a red Hyundai a few cars away from the pickup. Tony calls his name, and Loki shouts back a clipped off “coming!”. Tony wonders if he should go and help him, but then Loki simply jumps over the heads of a few biters and lands effortlessly on the hood of another car, making Tony think that the guy can take care of himself. He decides to make himself useful and hot-wire the pickup, which doesn't take him longer than a few seconds after he got rid of two biters that wanted to keep him from getting into the car. He's just got the engine running when there's a loud thud coming from behind him and Loki's voice shouting to him “drive, drive, drive!”

So Tony drives.


	2. Day 38 Part 2 - Day 64 Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that I don't know much about American Geography. Or cars. Or guns. So there won't be a lot of detailed information about these things in this story. xD

**Day 38 - Part 2**

 

Tony stops the car as soon as they're at least somewhat safe, giving Loki the chance to either run off or get into the driver's cabin. He chooses the latter, and shortly after Tony is driving again. He doesn't ask if Loki's alright with the direction Tony needs to go, and Loki doesn't say anything, either. Their eyes meet, though, and they grin at each other – briefly, but sincerely.

Tony knows it's a bad idea to trust him. It's a bad idea to trust anybody, really. But he feels like kicking Loki out of the car now would be rude, and it's sort of nice to have a living being sit on the passenger seat. Besides, Loki doesn't seem like a guy who takes kindly to being kicked out of anywhere. He's also fairly good with his knives.

Speaking of.

“Hey, I think I've got something of yours.”

Tony doesn't turn his head to look at him, but he can feel Loki's sharp gaze on himself, anyway. “Oh?”

Tony hums. “Backpack. Somewhere at the front.”

Loki looks down to where he's stored Tony's backpack earlier, and after a moment of hesitation pulls it out from under the passenger seat. He examines the pockets at the front, a surprised noise escaping him when he finds the knife.

“Found it in the head of one of them”, Tony says. “Yours, isn't it?”

“Yes.” Loki turns the dagger in his deft fingers, obviously pleased. “They are handy, but a bit easy to lose.”

“Figures”, Tony says and glances at Loki, smirking. “I've seen you throw them. How many do you have?”

“Fifteen, in the beginning. Eleven at the moment.”

“Well, you're welcome.”

Loki snorts, and the knife disappears into the inside of his dirty jacket. He looks out of the window, then, after putting Tony's backpack away again.

“They're pretty”, Tony says, just to keep the conversation going.

“Yes”, Loki agrees lightly. “I found them in an antique shop, shortly after everything went to shit.” Tony huffs a laugh, causing Loki to raise a brow at him. “What?”

“Nothing.” Tony won't tell him that it was the _shit_ that made him laugh, because somehow it didn't fit to Loki's almost posh way of speaking English. “Just, an antique shop?”

“What about it?”

“The world ends”, Tony says, “and you go into an antique shop?”

“I like antiquities”, Loki replies, unbothered. “And I needed something to fight with.”

“Fair enough. Still hungry?”

“Why are you asking?”

“Because there's food in the backpack, Bowie. Water, too.” Loki stays silent long enough to make Tony look at him again. Green eyes are searching his face, narrowed, and Tony meets them with a smile. “Help yourself”, he says. “I mean it.”

“You are helping me”, Loki states.

“Uh, yeah. I guess?”

“Why?”

Tony shrugs, eyes on the road again. “Why not? I saved your ass already, anyway. Letting you starve now would make that a waste of time and effort.”

“How much do you have?”, Loki asks, still hesitant.

“Enough for a few more days. We can share.”

Loki doesn't say anything else – thinking, probably – and Tony doesn't look at him, but after a while Loki lifts the backpack onto his lap again. He finds a still closed bottle of water and opens it, but he takes only a few sips before he puts it away again. He unwraps one of those store-bought sandwiches Tony found a few days ago and practically inhales it, not caring much about it tasting like the worst economy class plane-food anyone's ever had the displeasure to taste.

“You can take more”, Tony offers, but Loki shakes his head.

“I'm fine for now.” Hesitates, then adds, “Thank you.”

“You're welcome”, Tony says again. “When was the last time you ate?”

“Two days ago”, Loki answers. He's looking out of the window again. “I... got lost and couldn't find anything.” He sighs. “I only had useless stuff in my bag when this began.”

“For example?”

“A textbook about art history.”

“Oh.”

“Yes. Not even thick enough to do any damage.”

Tony finds himself smiling. “You tried?”

Loki nods. “I did.”

“Well, the biters do look like they could use some education.”

Loki laughs at that; a smooth, low sound that makes Tony grin in return. They drive in silence for a while, but because Tony's never been good with silence, he breaks it soon enough.

“So... Art history and antiquities, huh?”

“Yes”, Loki says, too light.

“A student?”

An affirmative hum, then, “Not that it matters anymore. I probably won't get my degree anytime soon.”

“Nope, probably not. You're not from here, are you?”

Loki shakes his head. “Norway. I was on vacation when...” He makes a vague gesture, and Tony nods.

“Alone?”, he asks.

“Where are you driving to?”, Loki asks back, changing the topic.

Tony lets it go, hearing Pepper's/Rhodey's/Jarvis' voice telling him not to poke his nose into things that aren't his business. “New York.”

“New York”, Loki repeats dryly. “We are in Arizona.”

“New Mexico, actually.”

“You'll never make it to New York alive.”

“Watch me”, is all Tony says.

Loki doesn't reply, just continues staring at Tony for a while.

“You want to come?”, Tony asks eventually, not even knowing why.

Silence, for a long time.

“Actually”, Loki says then, “yes. It's not like I have anywhere else to be.”

“Cool. Take another sandwich, then.”

 

 

**Day 42**

 

Loki is good company. He's quiet, doesn't begin a lot of conversations, but when Tony talks to him, he responds well enough. He has a nice sort of humor – dry, sarcastic, and now and then pitch black. Tony likes his accent.

Their car broke down yesterday, but they found another one quickly enough. They take turns driving – Tony's surprised that Loki doesn't crash the car; he drives like a lunatic – but most of the time it's Tony, with Loki on the passenger seat and his ridiculously long legs resting on the dashboard.

He's young. Twenty-three, he says.

Nine years isn't that much of an age difference, right?

 

 

**Day 51**

 

“I thought we wanted to get something to eat”, Loki says, his tone bored.

“We _are_ getting something to eat.”

“Tony, this is a liquor store.”

“Loki, I'm amazed. Your perception amazes me. You are amazing.”

Loki gives him a dirty look and drawls, “I'm well aware.”

Tony grins at him, then goes to check out the expensive stuff behind the counter. Sadly, the expensive stuff isn't that expensive at all; this doesn't seem to be a well-stocked store. Or maybe it was already plundered.

Tony is about to tuck two bottles that seem at least somewhat promising into his backpack when Loki tells him, “No.”

Tony looks up and finds Loki inspecting the shelves, rummaging through bottles and packages of tobacco.

“What do you mean, no?”, Tony asks.

Loki glances at him, his brows raised. “Put those bottles back. This isn't the right time to drink yourself into a stupor.”

“A literal zombie tried to take a bite of me just twenty minutes ago. This is the best time to drink myself into a stupor.”

“No”, Loki repeats.

Tony pouts, but takes the bottles and puts them back on the shelf. “You're a goddamn spoilsport.”

“You're a disaster”, Loki counters absently.

Because Tony can't actually argue against that, he stays silent. He turns away from the alcohol and crouches, taking a look at the stuff beneath the register. That turns out to be a good decision.

“Ohhhh.” His lips stretch into a wide grin. “Hello, baby.”

“Tony”, Loki sighs. “No alcohol.”

“I didn't find more alcohol. I found a Glock.”

“A what?”

“A gun”, Tony explains and places the weapon on the counter. His eyes skitter over the part of the low shelves that is barred, already thinking about how to open it. “There's more, and ammunition.”

“We already have guns”, Loki says thoughtfully. He comes over to the counter and leans over it, looking down at Tony.

“Yes, but this one's good for beginners. Also I'd like to have two; I'm not as good with knives as you.”

“Alright”, Loki agrees lightly. “Can you open the grid?”

Tony's already rummaging through the things in his backpack, searching for his small tool kit. “Sure.”

“I'll look if there is anything useful in the other room”, Loki says and Tony nods.

So Loki goes and Tony picks the lock, which doesn't take him longer than half a minute. They checked the back room earlier, when they came in, so he isn't particularly worried.

Turns out he should have been.

“Tony?”, Loki calls after a few minutes; Tony's still inspecting the different weapons and ammunition he has found.

“Yeah?”

“Could you come over here for a moment?”

Tony frowns and lifts his head. He can't see anything worrying through the open door that leads to the backroom, but he has a bad feeling, anyway. He stands up and slowly makes his way to the door, already taking his gun out of the holster he's wearing.

The good thing is, Loki's still alive and there aren't any biters around.

The bad thing is, Loki's hands are in the air and there is a gun aimed at his head. He looks rather annoyed by that.

“Hi”, Tony says to the man who is wielding the gun and now also facing barrel of _Tony's_ gun. “I don't know when people started greeting each other by holding each other at gunpoint, but could we like, stop doing that?”

“I would appreciate that, too”, Loki says.

The stranger is about Tony's height, but a little bulkier. “I want-”, he begins, but they'll never know what he wants, because Loki suddenly moves and keeps him from finishing his sentence.

Two seconds later, the man is lying on the floor and Loki has taken his gun to examine it.

“Is this one good for beginners, too?”, he asks, curious, then startles when Tony makes a sound that is not quite human.

“What the fuck did you do?!”

Loki blinks and looks down at the man, then back at Tony. “I stopped him from shooting me”, he says. “Don't worry, he's just unconscious.”

Tony crouches next to the stranger and checks if he's breathing. He is. Tony looks up at Loki again. This happened so fast that he can't even say _how_ it happened, and Loki looks so ridiculously unbothered that Tony's about to have a hysterical laughing fit.

“What did you do?”, he asks again.

“Wouldn't you like to know”, Loki drawls and crouches, too. He unceremoniously rolls the stranger onto his side and opens his backpack, in which he finds a half-empty bottle of water and some apples.

“Put them back”, Tony says when Loki wants to put the bottle and the apples into his own backpack.

Loki looks up, seeming surprised. “We need food, Tony.”

“And this guy doesn't?” Tony. takes the stuff from Loki and puts them back. “Look at him, for fuck's sake. He looks as if he hasn't had a proper meal in ages.”

“We haven't had a proper meal in ages, either.”

Tony stares at Loki for a moment, then shakes his head. “Okay, let's make a deal.”

Loki raises a brow. “A deal?”

“Yeah. No alcohol, and no stealing stuff from people who need it themselves.”

Loki mulls it over and after a few seconds starts to glare at Tony. “Fine”, he says, standing up and throwing his backpack over his shoulder. “But if we starve -”

“You can blame me, yes”, Tony allows cheerfully and gets back on his feet, too. “Where did he come from, anyway?”

“There’s a back door, apparently”, Loki says, indicating said door with a dismissive wave of his hand. He has already turned back to the shelves in the room, looking for supplies. “I think he’s alone, but we should still hurry.”

“Agreed. I’ll get the guns.”

The only reply he gets is an absent minded nod. Tony goes back into the main room of the store and takes two of the weapons beneath the counter, together with the matching bullets. There’s a holster for Loki, too, with which he returns to the stockroom. The stranger is still lying on the floor, knocked out cold by whatever Loki did to him. Tony finds that a _tiny_ bit unsettling. (And hot. Maybe. A little?)

“I found some canned food”, Loki tells him. He’s in a separated corner of the room, some kind of improvised kitchen nook. There’s a uncomfortable looking cot, too. “And water.”

“Cool. I found this.”

Loki looks at the holster and frowns. “I’m not sure -”

“I’ll teach you”, Tony says, and Loki sighs.

“Fine.” He takes the six pack of water and sets it down in front of Tony. “Here, carry this.”

“Hey”, Tony says, glowering at Loki who is already walking past him. “Why me?”

“Because I’m weak with hunger. If you would let me eat those apples, _maybe_ -”

“We’re not stealing his apples, Loki.”

“Well, then you have to carry the water, I’m afraid.”

And with that Loki leaves the room. Tony rolls his eyes, insults Loki under his breath and carries the water bottles out of the store. Loki’s already at their car, putting the cans he found into the trunk. He smiles charmingly at Tony when he brings the water, and Tony’s heart skips a beat.

 

 

**Day 52**

 

They eat canned soup for breakfast. It tastes horrible, but they have fun describing just _how_ horrible it tastes, so there’s that.

“How did you knock that poor guy out, anyway?”, Tony asks, because Loki is in a good mood and there’s at least a chance that he’ll give a proper answer.

“I started taking taekwondo classes when I was four”, Loki says.

Tony blinks, then shakes his head and pokes around in his soup. “You’re unbelievable.”

Antiquities, throwing knives, taekwondo. And such a charming smile.

That should be illegal, really.

 

 

**Day 56**

 

The gunshot is almost silent, thanks to the suppressor Tony brought from home. Loki curses in Norwegian and scowls at his Glock 19 as if it insulted his great-grandmother.

“That was already better”, Tony says, smirking when Loki glares at him. “No, really.”

“I missed the mark.”

“Yup, but only by two feet or something.” Tony steps forward and takes Loki’s arm, bringing it into the right position. “A bit higher - and keep it straight, yes, like that. Good, now look at the mark, keep the kickback in mind and -”

Loki shoots, and it’s better this time. Much better. Loki makes another frustrated sound, anyway, and lowers the gun. “This is ridiculous. We’re just wasting bullets.”

“We have more than enough”, Tony soothes him. “C’mon, try again. You just have to practice, then you’ll get the hang of it in no time.”

Loki huffs, but they keep practicing. In the end, Loki manages to hit the tree they have chosen as the mark a few times in a row. He looks just a little pleased by that; Tony thinks Loki would like to be not just good, but _perfect_ at shooting immediately. Tony’s not surprised to learn that his companion is a perfectionist.

“I’ll never be able to shoot with both hands”, Loki says later, when they have sat down to eat dinner.

“I mean, you don’t have to”, Tony replies, shrugging as he takes a bite of his pear.“I’m sure you’d manage, in time, but you can stick to one gun and your knives?”

Loki hums. “You are able to shoot with both hands.”

“Yeah, but I’m not that good at throwing knives.”

“You’re awful at throwing knives.”

“Not that good.”

Loki rolls his eyes, but he's smiling. He doesn't say anything for a while, and Tony stays silent, too. They found a still well-stocked supermarket before they entered the Carson National Forest, and they’ll probably get by without problems until they get out of the forest again. They almost had their first proper fight before they took this route, because Tony was against walking through the forest while Loki didn’t want to search a new car after theirs broke down.

Obviously, Tony let Loki win the argument.

It’s Loki who breaks the silence eventually, carefully watching Tony. “Why do you know so much about guns?”

“I’m American”, Tony says.

“Apart from that.”

Tony swallows slowly and looks at Loki, unsure what to say. The other man just holds his gaze, a brow raised. Tony knows that Loki would let the topic go if Tony asked, but somehow that seems ridiculous. They should be able to talk about this stuff, talk to each other. They both had a life before the world ended and Tony doesn’t know about Loki, but he doesn’t want to forget - not every single thing, anyway.

So Tony tells Loki, “I made them. Well, my company did.”

“Oh”, Loki makes, as if Tony just confirmed something he’d been asking himself.

“Oh?”, Tony echoes.

“I wasn’t sure.” Loki grins and nods at Tony’s dirty clothes. “Without the fancy suits and ridiculous sunglasses.”

“I’ve never worn ridiculous sunglasses in my life.”

“Then you’re not Tony Stark?”

“I am, but -”

“Then you have worn ridiculous sunglasses”, Loki decides.

Tony glares at him, and Loki smiles. A few seconds later they can hear a sound coming from somewhere between the trees; that certain sort of groaning that’s far too familiar by now.

Loki sighs and finishes the apple he’s been eating. “Can’t they at least let us have dinner in peace?”

“Nope”, Tony says, already standing up and moving to pack their things. He doesn’t know how many biters there are, but he and Loki are both tired after having walked the whole day, so it’s better not to take any risks.

“Rude”, Loki says and takes his backpack, already unfolding their map with his free hand. He studies it for a moment while making thoughtful sounds, then indicates a direction. “That way, I think.”

“You think?” Tony keeps pace with Loki, grinning at him. “Hey, were you also a scout?”

Loki gives him a look that says that he is very tired of Tony’s shit. “No.”

“Pity. You’d look good in an uniform like that.”

“I’d look good in every kind of uniform”, Loki informs him, making Tony laugh.

 

 

**Day 58**

 

Tony introduces Loki to JARVIS.

They get along well.

 

 

**Day 59**

 

Tony almost gets bitten, which isn’t any fun at all. But Loki shoots the zombie that’s almost hidden beneath leaves and soil, and he needs only one try to hit the head. He curses in his mother tongue as he rushes to Tony to help him get back on his feet, eyes flickering rapidly over Tony’s frame as he looks for bite wounds.

“I’m fine”, Tony tells him, a bit breathless.

There’s relief in Loki’s eyes and he relaxes, letting go of Tony’s arm again. “Watch your step”, he says, glancing down at the now _really_ dead biter.

Tony smiles to himself as they get going again. “Good shot.”

“It was, wasn’t it?”

“I told you you’d get better in no time.”

Loki chuckles. “I have a good teacher”, he says, almost softly, and Tony feels good, even though he almost died two minutes ago.

They keep a close eye on each other for quite a long while after Tony stumbled over the biter. Now and then, a dead crosses their way, and they either take care of it or give it a wide berth. Tony’s sick of trees by now, but Loki seems to enjoy it. Maybe he really was a scout and just doesn’t want to tell Tony.

“Hey, Loki?”, Tony asks after some time, and Loki looks at him.

“Yes?”

“How many have you killed?”

Loki averts his eyes again, a small crease appearing between his eyes. He thinks about it for almost a minute, then hesitantly says, “I’m not sure. I already lost count.”

“Oh.”

“What about you?”

Tony swallows and shrugs. “Fifty-eight.”

“You actually keep track”, Loki says, sounding - Tony isn’t sure, something between impressed and uncomfortable.

Tony lifts his shoulders again. “I’m good with numbers. And it - I don’t know, it feels important.”

Loki keeps quiet for a long time. “They are already dead, Tony”, he says then, his tone soft again. The second time today. Tony isn’t sure if he likes it; it feels a little bit too much like pity, even though it _isn’t_ pity - Loki isn’t the type to pity people, Tony knows.

“I know. Still.”

“Okay”, Loki says, and that’s it.

They don’t lose another word about it, and Tony keeps counting. He’s good at counting things. Trees, steps, water bottles, bullets, biters.

And days.

 

 

**Day 64 - Part 1**

 

“I wonder where all these people who lived here are”, Loki says absently, eyes skimming the abandoned houses around them.

Tony shrugs. Thinking about this makes him uneasy, but he still replies, “A lot left for Las Vegas, probably. They tried to set up camps there, too. But if things there are going as well there as they did in LA, most of the people are dead by now.”

“Or never reached Las Vegas in the first place”, Loki adds, having left Tony's side to ram one of his knives into a biter's head.

The small town they are walking through isn't exactly full of them, but there are still enough that it's not safe to be here. Technically it isn't safe to be _anywhere_ , though, and Tony thinks that as long as they move slowly and take care of the zombies that get too close to them, he and Loki will be fine.

He watches as Loki pulls his knife out of the head of the corpse and then wipes the blade on the dead woman's clothes. That's a habit of Loki's, always keeping his knives clean even though it'll get dirty again in a few minutes.

“What about this one?”, Loki asks.

Tony forces himself to look away from his companion and concentrate on the matter at hand; finding a car. The one Loki is pointing at is a rather new looking Honda, and Tony is about to nod and inspect it further when Loki makes a disgusted noise.

“Nevermind”, he says and thrusts his knife through the broken window of the car, putting an end to the miserable existence of the biter sitting behind the wheel.

Coming to stand next to Loki, Tony leans down to take a look. “Ew.”

“Yes”, Loki agrees lightly.

“How did he even end up sitting here?”

“I don't want to know.”

Tony smirks at Loki's expression - offended, as if he blames that poor dead guy for defiling their car - and tugs at his friend's sleeve to make him start walking again. They continue their slow and not that relaxed stroll through the town and check out some cars. Tony's kind of picky when it comes to choosing one, which Loki gets gradually more annoyed by. But eventually they find a car they're both happy with, and Tony's relieved that won't have to walk the next miles. Tony's already running late, anyway.

It takes him just a few seconds to short-wire the car, and not much later they are driving back to the supermarket they saw some time earlier. Tony parks the car in front of it and together they look through the windows of the store, trying to figure out whether it's safe to go on a shopping spree or not.

“Let's just give it a try”, Tony says, and Loki shrugs and nods.

So they go inside and only die about five or six times before the store is zombie-free, and then they find froot loops. Tony is ready to call the whole thing a success, but then he hears steps that aren't Loki's - he recognizes Loki's by now - and that are too even to be those of a biter, and that makes this feel a lot less like a success and more like imminent danger. Judging by the way Loki looks at him, he has gone through a similar thought process.

There's obviously a third living person in this store. And, see, the thing about living people is that they can be even more dangerous than dead people, because living people can use guns and knives and other lovely things and _will_ use guns and knives and other lovely things when they are hungry, scared and desperate. Tony and Loki agree that avoiding living people is usually a good solution - and Tony thinks neither of them knows why they stick together since Tony saved Loki's ass on day 38, but well, they don't really talk about that. They match, somehow, and it's good not to be alone.

But a third person feels like a person too many.

One of Tony's guns is already in his hand when Loki jerks his head, indicating that they should get away. Tony nods and lets Loki lead the way. They head for the exit, walking as quickly as possible without making any sounds, and it works really well until Tony stumbles over a can of ravioli - a lot of those cans fell to the ground when Tony finished off a biter earlier, and now the one Tony stumbled over is rolling over the floor and colliding with other cans, the sounds of it echoing far too loudly in the whole supermarket.

Loki looks at him like he wants to kill him.

They hear steps again, just one or two aisles away from them, and a second later there's a voice, too.

“Hello?”, it says - accented and deep, a man. “I don't mean any harm.”

Tony stares at Loki and tries to get him to move by gesturing around, but Loki doesn't react. He has turned his head into the direction of the voice, his eyes wide and mouth falling open.

“I'm just looking for someone”, the man continues after a moment, hesitant. “Someone I lost. Maybe you have seen him -”

Loki curses in Norwegian. Loudly.

And then he walks around the corner into the next aisle, right towards the stranger.

 


	3. Day 64 Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter because I didn't know where else to set the cut! Let's hope that posting the next one won't take me another nine months. xD

**Day 64 - Part 2**

 

Sometimes, Tony wonders where he would be right now if he had turned his back on that stranger on day 38. Maybe he would already be in New York, or at least  _ a little bit _ closer to actually getting there. Maybe he’d already be dead and running around as a biter. He can’t know for sure.

He does know, though, that he would  _ not _ be the witness of the most awkward family reunion of the apocalypse. 

Tony is currently examining the variety of cornflakes boxes in the shelves next to him, trying to keep himself from looking at Loki or the other guy. He still steals a few glances at said other guy every few seconds, as if to make sure that he doesn’t spontaneously change his mind and attack them. But it doesn’t look like he wants to attack anybody; he hasn’t even noticed Tony yet. He’s to busy giving Loki a bone crushing hug. No, seriously, he’s holding Loki so tightly that it must fucking  _ hurt _ . Loki actually yelped when the huge, blond man pulled him into his arms, and he also tried to break free, but no matter what Norwegian words he hissed at the other man, he didn’t let go of him. So Loki eventually gave in and let himself be hugged, but he still hasn't done anything else than stand awkwardly in the other’s embrace and pat his back now and then. Meanwhile, blondie is crying - not full on sobbing, no, but the few tears Tony can see are already enough to make him uncomfortable. He's never been good with feelings.

So yeah, he stands there and examines cereal boxes. That's fine. Just when he has taken one of them out of the shelve and is about to squeeze it into his backpack, Loki apparently reaches the point where he's had enough, because he snaps something else Tony doesn't understand and finally manages to push the probably-not-stranger away from him. They exchange a few words, but Tony can't understand anything of that, either, so he pretends that the cover of the box he's still holding in his hand is the most interesting thing he's ever read.

Then Loki says after a sigh, “That is Tony, a friend. Tony, that's Thor.”

Tony wonders how many cereal boxes he can fit into his backpack.

“Tony?”

Tony looks up and finds them both staring at him. Loki looks like he wants to be somewhere else, which is a feeling Tony can very much relate to, and also like he's very angry and trying to stay calm.

“Hi,” Tony says and waves with the box of lucky charms.

“Hello,”  _ Thor _ says and suddenly he starts beaming, and Tony's about to turn around and run for his life because he does  _ not  _ want to be hugged, thank you very much, but then Thor is already hugging him.

Tony will never set a foot into a supermarket again.

“Thank you,” Thor says, earnestly.

Tony makes some kind of undignified noise in response and Thor wants to say something else, but thankfully Loki comes to Tony's rescue and grabs Thor's collar. He pulls forcefully enough that Thor lets go of Tony and takes a few steps back. Tony notices that his lucky charms are crushed and puts them back into the shelf.

“I'm sorry,” Thor says to him, still smiling lopsidedly. He takes a new cereal box and wants to hand it over, but Tony's old dislike of being handed things kicks in and he just stares at the carton. Thor lets it sink after a moment. “I am just glad that my brother is well. Thank you for helping him.”

Tony raises a brow, but before he can say anything, Loki snaps, “I didn’t need his help.”

Thor looks at Loki, frowning. “Loki -”

“It’s true,” Tony says before he can hold himself back. “He doesn’t need my help. He’s like, ten times deadlier than me.”

“Yes,” Loki agrees. At once. Without missing a beat. “Exactly.”

“Alright,” Thor says. It sounds suspiciously like  _ if you say so. _

There's an awkward silence that lasts far too long. Tony slowly turns back to the cereal boxes. Something here is definitely odd. Loki mentioned a brother once or twice, but he didn't tell Tony any details. Then again, he doesn't talk much about himself at all, so maybe Loki not speaking about his blond giant of a brother doesn't  _ mean _ anything. But, well, this really is awkward. And awkwardness usually has a reason. 

That's none of Tony's business, of course. He isn't sure if he wants to know, anyway.

Thor breaks the silence eventually. He speaks Norwegian, though, and Loki answers in Norwegian, so Tony pretends that he isn't even there. He's already thinking about how traveling without Loki will be like. It leaves a hollow feeling in his stomach.

Tony concentrates on what’s happening again when Thor suddenly just leaves - he flashes Tony a practiced smile, eyes flickering back to Loki a bit hesitant, and then disappears behind the next shelf.

“Come on,” Loki says quietly, already turning into the opposite direction. “Let’s see if there is a window in the back we can climb out of.”

“What?”

Loki glances at him. “Let’s  _ go _ , Tony.”

“But what about -”

“He thinks we’ll meet him outside after talking things through. I assume he will get suspicious after a few minutes, so we should hurry.”

Tony stares at his friend, speechless for a moment. Loki stares right back at him, his face oddly blank.

“You don’t want to stay with him,” Tony states.

“You noticed that? How clever of you. Now  _ move.” _

Tony rushes forward and grabs Loki’s arm. “No, you - you can’t just  _ do _ that, Loki. He’s your brother, don’t you want to -”

“He’s not  _ really _ my brother,” Loki says, which doesn’t make a lot of sense, and swats Tony’s hand away. “And no, I don’t want to spend any time with him. Actually, I was quite glad to be rid of him.”

Tony blinks. Loki holds his gaze, and there’s really no reason to believe that he’s lying, but. Still. “You’re angry with him,” Tony says.

“It’s none of your business.”

“Yeah well, I think it  _ is, _ ” Tony counters. “We’re - partners, right? Partners decide this sort of thing together. Maybe a third person would be -”

“Oh,  _ really. _ ” Loki sneers. There’s something cruel in his eyes, something that Tony has seen brief flares of, but not much more. “I saw how you looked at him, Tony. Do not pretend you want him to stay with us, because you don’t. You would like for it to stay just you and me.”

“Well, yes, but -”

“I’d be content with that as well,” Loki tells him. “And I don’t wish to see him or his idiotic friends ever again.”

“He’s got friends? Where are they?”

“What do I care? Now come  _ on.” _

“Fuck, Loki, are you kidding me?” Tony snaps, sharply enough that Loki stills and narrows his eyes at him. “They've been looking for you, okay? And if someone's looking for you like that, it means they're fucking worried, and if someone's fucking worried you don't just - you don't just climb out of some damned window and run away from them! Okay?”

Loki looks at Tony, but he doesn't say anything. He doesn't seem amused, but he also doesn't seem  _ angry _ anymore. If anything he looks thoughtful now, and somehow that's even worse. Tony has to resist the urge to avert his eyes. He was much more comfortable staring at cereal boxes than he is now, and that's saying something.

“You're looking for someone,” Loki breaks the silence, his tone even, light with realization. “And you think they are in New York.”

Tony clenches his teeth.  _ So what? _ He wants to ask.  _ What's it to you?  _ But that would mean admitting it, and admitting it could lead to more questions about it, and that could lead to things like,  _ Tony, you… you know that the chances are low, don't you? You know that she's probably dead? _

No. Nope. Tony doesn't want to hear that, he doesn't even want to think it. He shouldn't be thinking it.  _ Fuck death, she's alive. She has to be alive. _

(According to Schrödinger, she's both alive and dead until Tony opens the goddamn box.

The goddamn box is currently still TK miles away.)

Someone calls Loki's name from outside the supermarket. The silence  _ in _ the supermarket shatters like a mirror; Loki curses under his breath and Tony lets out the air he's apparently been holding. 

“We're coming,” Loki calls back, then he picks up the six-pack of water bottles he found and stalks off into the direction of the exit.

Tony quietly follows him. Something's changed now, and he isn't sure if he likes it. He knows that he liked how things were before they came here - if you can like the general state of things when it includes zombies and the end of human civilization, that is. The thing is, Loki was right; Tony really would prefer it if it stayed just the two of them. But well, Tony was also right, and fuck, he's done running away. He doesn't want to watch Loki run away, either, no matter for what reason.

Loki's brother is waiting for them outside, along with a dark-haired woman. Thor beams at Loki as soon as he sees him, but the woman seems somewhat annoyed. Her face is blank when she looks at Loki, but her hand comes to rest on the handle of the knife that is strapped to her belt. It's not very reassuring.

“Tony, this is Sif,” Thor introduces his friend. His voice is entirely too bright for this situation, too loud. "Sif, that's -"

“Hi,” Tony interrupts him. He’s always preferred introducing himself over being introduced. “Tony. Nice to meet you.”

"Likewise," Sif replies. Her brief smile suggests that she has other things on her mind than greeting odd strangers with overgrown beards. She throws glances up and down the street, then turns to Thor and mutters something in Norwegian.

“Really now, Sif,” Loki says, sweetly. “Aren't we past the age of secret languages?”

Sif gives him look that is about as sharp as the blade of her knife, but she doesn't say anything. Loki just smiles at her, showing teeth. For some reason, Tony gets the impression that they know each other very well.

“Speak English as long as Tony is here,” Loki advises her. “It's only polite.”

“Aye,” Thor says. “We shall do that. Apologies, Tony.”

The way he talks gives Tony a minor case of whiplash. He feels like he's sitting in English class again, staring at Shakespearean gibberish. Still, he shrugs. “No worries.”

“I'm glad you decided to join us,” Thor tells him, smiling smiling widely. Maybe he thinks that Loki spent the last minutes convincing Tony to come rather than the other way around. If so, he’s in for a nice surprise; Tony doubts that Loki will stay silent about his reluctance to be with his brother and his friends. Whoever those friends are, exactly. If they are all as friendly as Sif, Tony can’t really fault Loki for wanting to stay away.

“Yeah.” Tony draws the word out, ready to explain that he won't be  _ staying _ with them, that he has places to be and people to find. 

Loki is faster, though. “We won't stay with you for long, I'm afraid,” he says, looking at Thor. He's just completely ignoring Sif now. “Maybe one or two days, then we'll be on our way.”

Thor looks first confused, then crestfallen. “But Loki -”

“I see no reason to discuss this with you,” Loki cuts him off, his tone dismissive. “Where are the others?”

“We have a camp a bit outside of the town, on an old camping site.” Thor frowns. “Loki -”

“Alright,” Loki says, lifting the water bottles again. “That's your car, I assume? Get going, then. We'll follow you in our own.”

Right now, Thor has a striking similarity with a kicked puppy. Loki is indifferent, though; he's already carrying their loot to their car to throw it into the trunk. Tony is too stunned to say anything, not even when Thor directs his puppy-eyed stare at him, so he just shrugs and follows Loki.

“What?” Sif asks behind him, probably directed at Thor. “Are you really surprised that he took it personally? He takes  _ everything _ personally.”

She obviously wants Loki to hear it, to get some sort of reaction out of him, but Loki doesn't rise to the bait. He doesn't even acknowledge her as he gets into the car and closes the door. 

Tony hurries to get behind the wheel, and when he tosses his stuffed to the brim backpack onto the back seat, he notices that Loki's jaw is clenched. He refuses to look at Tony, too, so - yeah, he's angry.

This whole thing really  _ is _ awkward, and Tony doesn't like it. So he doesn't look at Loki, either, and waits until Thor and Sif finally get into the car they parked in front of the one Tony and Loki took earlier - now Tony realizes that the car standing in front of the supermarket was the clue for Thor that somebody was in there. If they have a camp close by, they probably drive through this town rather often and look out for any changes. And there aren't many cars left on the streets; of course Thor and Sif would notice that one moved.

Tony thinks that he and Loki should keep that in mind for the next time they make their way through a town like this, and that thought leads him back to what Loki said earlier, and  _ that _ leads him back to the fact that he has no fucking clue what's going on.

“So,” he says as he follows Thor and Sif's car out of the town. “I feel like there's some story behind all this that I don't know.”

“Oh, really,” Loki replies, continuing to be very much not amused. He's still looking out of the window rather than at Tony, with his elbow propped under the car window and his chin in his hand. Uh oh.

Tony glances at his friend. He tries to think of something to say that won't make this worse. “I, uh. That woman, Sif. She doesn't like you, huh? She acts like she's your ex or something. Did you -”

“Tony, I'm gay,” Loki interrupts, sounding resigned. “Sif can't stand me, that's all.”

Oookay. “Why not?”

“Many reasons.”

“That's very vague, but alright. And what did you 'take personally'?”

“Stop asking, please.”

Tony's about to open his mouth and continue asking, but then he remembers that Loki didn't even want this. He doesn't want to be here, on the way to his brother's camp, for reasons Tony doesn't know or understand. Tony has rarely seen Loki this tense before, not even when they are surrounded by biters. It's like Loki would rather fight his way through a bunch of dead people than meet a few living people he knows from before.

It makes Tony wonder whether they should have sneaked out of a window, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> [My tumblr :)](https://amidnight--dreary.tumblr.com/)


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